


More Than He Bargained For

by thatgirlwhodraws



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 15:32:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgirlwhodraws/pseuds/thatgirlwhodraws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Making contact with a soul is an experience that may only last a second – but it can feel like an eternity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than He Bargained For

Making contact with a soul is an experience that may only last a second – but it can feel like an eternity.

Castiel’s expression was grim as he reached into Sam’s chest, felt the white-hot glow of what should have been Sam Winchester’s soul.

What he found instead was emptiness.  It was as though he were standing in an empty museum with a single frame –ripped canvas material clinging to the edges, the fractured connections of what was Sam Wincheter’s living soul.

“You thought you’d gotten everything, hadn’t you?”  Sam drawled, rounding the corner of the empty ‘room’ – it was all in Sam’s mind, and Castiel knew it, but he didn’t pull out just yet.  He had to figure out what was going on.

“Sam.” Castiel said, his voice tight.  “I didn’t know this would happen. I’ll fix it somehow, I swear—“

“ _No._ ” Sam’s voice boomed in Castiel’s mind, painful in it’s intensity.  His vision went black for a moment as he was slammed back against a wall, gasping out as a pain shook him from the inside of his vessel, all the way to the tips of his wings, the edge of his Grace hidden in human form.

Trapped within Sam’s mind, Castiel tried not to panic.  He felt the grip on his wrists as surely as he would have in the physical world.  His brow set, furrowed, as he stared up at Sam, his lips pursed.

“I don’t want it.” Sam said evenly, staring down at Castiel with hooded lids.  “I’m better without it.” A smirk tugged at the edge of his lips. “And more observant.”

Castiel jolted when he felt warm lips on his own, teeth biting with a hint of roughness.  He felt a knee press between his legs, grinding up.  “Sam—“ Castiel hissed out. “What are you doing.”

Sam’s laugh was quiet in his ear, sending shivers up his spine. “I know you want me, Castiel.   Did you even realize?” Castiel fell into stunned silence, his eyes wide, staring into nothing as he felt teeth at his throat, hands pulling his overcoat from his shoulders. 

“Sam. You’re not yourself.” Castiel said slowly, his voice even. “I’m sorry for this. I truly am.”

It was for that reason that Castiel felt the need to subject himself to Sam’s whims.  Within Sam’s mind, he could have forced his way out – instead, he found himself pinned up against the imagined wall, pants pooled around his ankles, grunting as Sam lifted him off his feet, shaking him with rough thrusts of his hips.

The sensation of being filled – of being speared open, was intense.  He felt like he was being split in two – the sensation intensified, fueled by the power of Sam’s mind.   It was only painful because Sam  _wanted_ it to be.

Castiel was pulled from his thoughts when Sam’s hands tangled in his hair, yanking his head back.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Sam grunted, sweat trickling down his face. “You act tough, but you  _want_  to be ordered around. You want to be dominated.” He whispered, silencing him with a kiss before he could answer. 

Sam’s orgasm was intense, filling him up.  Castiel cried out, feeling like someone had poured hot lead in the pit of his belly, spreading outwards.   Pleasure seared him to the core, dissipating only when he  _finally_  pulled his arm from Sam’s chest in the real world, resisting the urge to pant with exhaustion.

Sam was gasping for breath, his jaw going slack, the belt falling from his lips and to the floor.

“So? What’s wrong with him?” Dean demanded, looking at Castiel.  As calmly as he could, Castiel rolled his sleeve back down, adjusting his coat.

“Your brother doesn’t have a soul.” The angel said slowly, his gaze downcast.  Dean was focused on Castiel now, yelling, frantic.  He was too distraught to notice how Sam’s head lolled to one side, his gaze focused on Castiel.  A little smirk quirked up at the edge of his lips, smug.

Castiel would never admit he’d allowed himself to be crushed under the soulless will of Sam’s bright mind.


End file.
